1. Yet not for a single moment did I have any doubts about my own
integrity and honour as a woman.
2. I knew that my profession had been invented by men, and that
men were in control of both our worlds, the one on earth, and the
one in heaven.
3. That men force women to sell their bodies at a price, and that the
lowest paid body is that of a wife.
4. All women are prostitutes of one kind or another. Because I was
intelligent I preferred to be a free prostitute, rather than an
enslaved wife.
5. Every time I gave my body I charged the highest price. I could
employ any number of servants to wash my clothes and clean my
shoes, hire a lawyer no matter how expensive to defend my
honour, pay a doctor for an abortion, buy a journalist to publish my
picture and write something about me in the newspapers.
6. Everybody has a price, and every profession is paid a salary. The
more respectable the profession, the higher the salary, and a
person’s price goes up as he climbs the social ladder.
7. One day, when I donated some money to a charitable association,
the newspapers published pictures of me and sang my praises as
the model of a citizen with a sense of civic responsibility.
8. And so from then on, whenever I needed a dose of honour or
fame, I had only to draw some money from the bank.